


An Artful Game

by Bunney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunney/pseuds/Bunney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort has won and Hermione Granger has been claimed by Lucius Malfoy as his lover, but he finds himself enslaved by her desires.  One of those desires is his son, Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Artful Game

I watch him from my place at my master's side; Lucius is stroking my hair and my cheek rests against his leg, but I have eyes only for his son. His triumphant Draco, returned to Voldemort's fold a hero, his previous failures fading into distant memory in light of the success of this last, spectacular mission. 

The Ministry, destroyed. 

The Wizengamot, killed, to the very last witch and wizard. 

Voldemort's mastery over our magical world is nearly complete. 

Harry evades him still, but I resolutely push my thoughts of my former friend out of my mind. It is not advantageous to dwell too long on things I have little control over. Not only is it fruitless, but dangerous to have those thoughts in my mind while surrounded by wizards with Legilimency skills that far outstrip my own ability to block them. 

 

My life is not what I imagined it would be in the years since I left Hogwarts, only a year shy of completion, but neither is it a horrible existence. Lucius Malfoy, oddly enough, is a kind, generous lover and he keeps me in a style that I might have once thought obscene, but now see as a mark of my status among the other slaves. It's a cage, but all things considered, I'm glad it's a gilded one.

Draco turns towards his father, a pleased smile on his face, when his gaze finds me. I smirk saucily at him, shaking my hair back, and he looks away almost immediately, his fair complexion betraying his interest with a flush of pink across his high cheekbones. Lucius knows of my fascination with Draco, although he's sworn to beat me to death if I ever attempt to act on it. I know his threats are nothing more than rhetoric; the only time he hurts me is when I'm begging him for it. Lucius's hand tightens in my hair and I purr and stroke my cheek against his thigh, much like my cat Crookshanks might've done, when begging for a treat. The irony isn't lost on me.

"Settle down, love...I can practically smell the desire on you," he murmurs, his words only for my ears. I curl my hand around his thigh and give him my sweetest smile, one calculated to beguile. He can read me like a book, after two years of sharing his bed and his life.

"Father." Draco's standing in front of us now, his shadow falling over me until the audience chamber is blocked from view and he's all I can see. After that one, brief meeting of our eyes, he pays me no mind, accepting a glass of mead from a fawning house-elf and settling down to share the story of his victory with Lucius. I content myself with watching the celebration and sneaking private glimpses of my former classmate.

*****

"You want him," Lucius says later, when he's fucking me. I cling to him, legs and arms wrapped around his torso as he rocks in and out. "Am I not enough for you, my love?"

"I can never get enough of you, Lucius," I murmur in his ear, sucking the lobe between my teeth. I squeeze on him as he increases his thrusts, his hands braced on either side of my shoulders to give himself more leverage.

"So, you think having both of us will make it better? Will having my son in your bed scratch that infernal itch between your thighs?" he snarls, looking down at me with a glittering, half-drunk smile.

I buck under him and roll us over, until I'm riding him. He looks so handsome laying against the dark sheets, his long white hair spread across the pillows. My captivity could have been so much worse, especially if Macnair or Dolohov had gotten their way and had me first. Together, they've broken so many girls, I've lost count. 

"What if I wear you out? I mean, I am a young woman and you...well, Lucius, you won't live forever," I tease, knowing that he'll recognize it as such. "Maybe I fancy having a younger copy of you."

His hand lands on my arse, sharp and stinging, and the abrupt punishment tumbles me over the edge of orgasm. I clench tightly on him as I come and he growls at me, sounding just like Greyback after a particularly bloody kill. I laugh as he topples me over again, pushing into me until he comes as well, spilling all that milky white Malfoy seed all over my pussy and the sheets beneath. He slumps over me, his body heavy and slick with sweat. I let my legs slide from around his waist as he kisses me with undeniable affection.

Sometimes, I think I must be losing my mind to enjoy this so very much.

*****

"It's my birthday today, Granger," Draco says at breakfast, two days later. as he leans over to look at me. He's sipping hot coffee and I can smell the wonderful bitterness of it on his breath. I nibble a buttered scone from my cushioned perch at Lucius's feet and smile up at him.

"Then, a Happy Birthday to you, Draco. I hope you get everything you want," I reply, wiping a few stray crumbs from my robes. Draco's eyes narrow speculatively and Lucius chuckles above me.

"I'm sure Draco's birthday will be one to remember," he says cryptically. I stare boldly into Draco's pale eyes and see the interest simmering there, knowing he's wondering just what his celebration might entail. Lucius finishes his breakfast and when he rises, I do as well, as obedient a slave as any Death Eater could wish for. I catch Draco staring at me from the corner of my eye and I stretch a little for his benefit, so that my thin robes form to my breasts. Lucius notices the blatant move and smacks me smartly on the arse.

"Stop showing off, Hermione, or you'll find yourself over my knee," he warns. I slip my arm through his and stand on tiptoe, to give him a kiss. What starts out chaste heats up quickly and soon, he's cupping my face and kissing me thoroughly. When he releases me, I look over at Draco and just before he can shield his gaze, I see the burning emotion in his eyes, a mingling of jealousy and hatred and lust. I can't help the mocking grin that crosses my face.

As Draco and Lucius leave to attend to Voldemort, I wander back to the suite I share with Lucius. I'm very lucky that I've been given such benefits, but it's come at a heavy cost, make no mistake. Lavish quarters, plenty of food, comfortable, pretty clothing...all of it is mine in exchange for my brain. Snape's death was a serious blow to Voldemort's cause; he was a brilliant potions maker and none of Voldemort's followers have as clear a grasp on it as the professor had. Not even Draco, who is quite skilled at brewing potions himself. But nothing, and no one, could touch my expertise. I didn't earn the title of smartest witch of my age for nothing, you know.

Then I was captured in Little Hangleton, during the Order's frantic search for the remaining Horcruxes. Captured and tortured nearly to death until I'd promised to do anything, _anything_ , to stop the pain. That kind of agony, the kind that sears through you like hellfire, the kind that makes you wish for death, beg for it, for anything but that mind-numbing, crippling torment...well, I'm only human. I offered my considerable intellect in exchange for my life and I don't think anyone, even Harry, would begrudge me my sacrifice. 

I hadn't counted on Lucius Malfoy, though. After Voldemort had finished with me, after he'd nearly broken me and left me babbling and shrieking in madness and agony, he'd given me to Lucius for _conditioning_. He had taken one look at me, filthy and aching, and sent me immediately to his rooms for a hot bath. Then he'd wasted no time showing his dominion over me, taking me on his bed before I'd even dried off. To his credit, he was gentle and he'd held me as I sobbed over the loss of the very last of my innocence. Soothed me and while I still sniffled and cried, he'd pushed inside me again and licked the tears from my face. Before the night was over, I'd participated in more perverted acts with Lucius than Ron and I had ever accomplished in our fumbling, teenaged attempts at sex. 

In exchange for the continued right to breathe, I gave myself to him and to Voldemort and never looked back. 

My acceptance of my lot in life has made me very unpopular with the other girls, many of them classmates of mine from Hogwarts, although thankfully none who had been close friends. Most of them were either dead or on the run. So, I tend to stay to myself, preferring to spend my days in the library or in the laboratory Voldemort has provided for my use. This day however, I'm still sore and languid from an early morning session with Lucius and fancy a nap, then a cup of tea and a good book. With that in mind, I return to my room.

*****

When I awake, hours later, I hear the murmur of voices from the sitting room. Lucius must have company, so I strip off my robes and go into the bathroom for a long soak. He comes in while I'm dozing in the tub, idly poking my big toe in the spigot. "There you are, my lazy girl...I've been wondering when you'd awaken." He sits down on the edge of the tub and catches a lock of my hair between his fingers. "Did you have a good nap?"

"I did," I say sleepily, stretching so that my breasts break the surface of the water, bubbly pink suds clinging to my skin. Naturally, his eyes widen appreciatively, but his smile is cynical. "You are a naughty minx, Hermione...you do have the art of manipulation down pat, don't you?"

"Is it working?" I ask, playfully flicking water at him. 

His smile turns feral and it's such an erotic picture I can't help squirming in the now-lukewarm water. "As a matter of fact, it is. Get out now and dry your hair. Put on something pretty and easy to remove...I want to have a little fun."

As he gets up, shaking the creases out of his trousers, I grasp his hand. "Why don't you come in here and have a little fun? I'll lick you clean," I offer with a sultry gaze. He's obviously interested, but pulls away with a rueful look.

"Another day, love. Now do as I say...I have a surprise for you."

*****

When I step into the sitting room, I'm surprised to find Draco there alone, slumped in a comfortable chair and sipping a glass of wine. He looks up at me, then down the length of my body. I've put on a silk robe, deceptively voluminous, but the fabric is so thin, so fine, that it molds to my body as I walk, the creamy champagne color giving the illusion of transparency. Smiling at Draco, I hold my hand out for his drink. "Refill?"

I can feel his eyes on me as I pour more wine into his glass. "He's trained you well," he finally says. "Where's the Hermione Granger I once knew?"

His words are sharp, hurtful, but I'm used to worse from my fellow slaves. "Lucius is kind and I don't fancy death. Or excruciating pain." I hand him the glass, allowing my fingers to brush over his for the briefest of touches. "The Hermione Granger you once knew learned the valuable art of self-preservation. Live to fight another day and all that rubbish, you know."

He smiles at that, his eyes once more sliding over me like a warm caress. I curl up on the sofa, tucking my bare feet beneath me and watch him hungrily. I make him nervous; he fidgets with his glass, with his robes, with his hair, brushing it back from his narrow face with jerky movements. I finally take pity on him. "Where's Lucius?"

He gulps the last of his wine and I reach for his glass, refilling it again. "With the Dark Lord. He said to wait, he'd be back soon." He stares moodily at me.

"Have you had a good birthday?" I ask, fiddling with the hem of my robe, arranging it so that it leaves my legs bare. "Did you get everything you asked for?"

Draco laughed, already a little tipsy. "Not yet," he says and the look he gives me makes me shiver in desire. The moment seems to extend infinitely, the tension in the room rising until I can feel a trickle of sweat form along my spine. When it reaches the point that if one of us doesn't break the staring contest I'm going to combust, the door to the sitting room opens and Lucius sweeps in, his robes billowing behind him.

He stops short, sniffing the air as if he can smell the lust pouring off of Draco and myself, and he smiles in an odd sort of satisfaction. "I see you've started without me," he says, pouring himself a drink. Draco frowns, puzzled by his father's mysterious words, but I hide my smile; I know exactly what he means. When Lucius catches my eye, I lick my lips and blow him a kiss. Draco scowls.

"The Dark Lord is most pleased with you, son. The fall of the Ministry is our greatest victory to date. Not counting the death of Dumbledore, of course." Lucius gives Draco a mocking salute with his glass as Draco's lips thin in displeasure. The reminder of his failure that night at Hogwarts rankles him still. And the reminder of it, and all that I've lost, hurts. I look away for a moment to compose my expression. I've long ago mastered my tears, so my eyes remain resolutely dry.

"I was young and foolish then," Draco says, by way of explanation, his tone mocking. "I thought I was protecting my family."

Lucius holds up a placating hand. "No need to apologize, son," he says, although technically, Draco didn't apologize. "I appreciate the gesture."

I'm surprised by Lucius's attitude; he's deliberately needling Draco, whose quicksilver temper hasn't improved one bit in the years since school.

"So, son, have you thought about what you'd like for this momentous birthday? Twenty-five is a milestone, you know," Lucius asks, watching Draco closely. To my delight, Draco's silver gaze slides to me, lingering on my breasts.

"Nothing you're willing to give," he sneers.

Only because I know his body language so well, I notice the slight stiffening in Lucius's shoulders, the infinitesimal tightening around his eyes. I feel a rush of affection for him; he doesn't want to share me, but he will, because Draco wants me and I want him so very much. And Lucius rarely denies me my creature comforts. 

Lucius laughs softly and drains his glass. "Indeed. You're sadly mistaken, Draco. But know this: some gifts come with certain stipulations. Are you willing to abide by those?"

Draco knows now, oh yes, he does. He's looking at me again and I can feel his cold eyes scorching me. "It depends...is it worth it?" he asks, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

"There are some things, Draco, that are worth any price."

Draco's grin is white and hungry. "Happy Birthday to me, then. Cheers, Father." He lifts his glass, touching the rim to his father's.

As father and son turn to look at me, I have to press my legs together against the trickle of excitement dampening my thighs. 

*****

Lucius is a control-freak and while Draco is very much the same way, in his father's presence he defers to the older wizard easily, if not so willingly. He's shocked, at first, that Lucius wants to watch us, but shrugs it away when I crawl into his lap and lick away the sweet, honeyed wine from his lips. Lucius circles us, watching with bright, burning eyes as Draco drags me closer, his mouth savaging mine until I'm soon shivering in delight. Lucius is a powerful, virile man, but Draco is in his prime and so very beautiful. I can hardly wait to have his long, elegant fingers on me, in me, bringing me to heights of pleasure I've only dreamed of. 

I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging hard enough to make him sink one hand in my hair and pull me roughly away. He tongues his reddened lip, looking at me with an expression so blistering I can't help but writhe on his lap like a cheap slag. Lucius likes to tease me and call me his insatiable little pet, but he's more right than he knows. 

"Like it rough, do you, Granger?" Draco breathes against my lips, his eyes dark and shining with excitement.

"I like it however you want to give it to me," I whisper back, right before slipping my tongue sinuously into his mouth, twining around his and sucking hard. I look over his shoulder to see Lucius watching us, seemingly calm, but I can see his hands clenching and unclenching and his lips are white with tension. I break from Draco's mouth and he immediately tugs aside the neckline of my robe, to nip and suck at my neck. I can feel the blood rising hotly to the surface and the thought of being marked by him makes me smile giddily.

"Lucius, darling," I say. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how to pleasure your little boy."

Draco growls against my throat and I hear the back of my robe rip, his hands digging through the fabric. His palms are hot and sweat-damp against my spine. Lucius is nodding slowly, unable to hide his own arousal. "Take your robe off, Hermione. Show Draco what a pretty little slut you are."

As Draco moans his displeasure, I slide off his lap, undoing the gold clasp holding my robe closed and let it slither from my body. I kick the pile of torn fabric away, unconcerned. I have a dozen more where that came from and Lucius will probably buy me a dozen more to replace it. Draco can hardly tear his eyes off of me as I slide lacy beige knickers down my legs and kick those aside as well.

Lucius feeds me very well, so I'm probably a little plumper than I was at Hogwarts, but I'm happy with my body and I know Lucius is, if his appetite for me is any indication. Now, it's Draco's appreciation I want and I very obviously have it. He's rubbing the front of his trousers, his erection forming a prominent bulge. My mouth waters for him and Lucius follows my train of thought.

"On your knees...take him in your mouth..." he rasps, coming around the end of the sofa to fall into it, his own hand slipping through the opening in his robes. Draco spreads his legs as I kneel between them, reaching for his fly. His cock is long and red, jutting up from a nest of gold hair several shades darker and coarser than the silky flaxen strands on his head. I slide him into my mouth in one swallow, past my tongue, past my gag reflex, deeper until he nudges the back of my throat. 

"Oh god..." Draco moans, the muscles in his thighs tightening against my shoulders. "Fuck, Granger..."

I look up through my lashes to find him staring down at me with an expression of shock and pleasure. I focus my considerable efforts on him, slipping my hand into his trousers to cup his sac, squeezing and rolling it lightly in my palm in concert with the suction I'm giving his cock. His hands are in my hair now, pushing me down on him as he's thrusting up, feeding himself into my mouth. He's swelling, throbbing against my tongue, and I circle him with my other hand, pulling up off him with a wet pop. 

"No, don't stop...don't stop, please..." he pants, as I blow a cool stream of air across the purpled glans. 

"Remove his clothes, Hermione..." Lucius says behind me. "I want to see you fuck him."

Draco obediently lifts his hips so I can tug his trousers and underpants down. He's fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and finally manages to strip it off. As he bares his arms, I can see Voldemort's mark, branded on the pale inner flesh of his left arm. Just as Lucius's does, it fills me with an inexplicable sadness, a sorrow vibrantly tinged with an almost bestial craving. I'm no longer the swotty little teacher's pet, no longer the Gryffindor princess, sweet, unassuming Hermione Granger. I am Lucius Malfoy's pampered pet, his son's willing whore.

I have to look in the mirror to recognize myself these days and even then, the resemblance is evaporating, leaving behind a woman I hardly know, with eyes as cold and mad as the creature who suffers me to live.

When I have Draco naked, I sit back on my heels for a moment to admire him. He's not quite as tall as Lucius, but where his father has softened, gone to fat, Draco is hard and lean and oh God, I want him inside me so badly I ache. He sees the yearning in my eyes and he opens his arms for me. I crawl back up his body, straddling his hips. His hand between my legs finds me already dripping for him; my inner thighs are slick with it and he wastes no time pressing his cock against my pussy and I slam down on him.

"Oh yeah, Granger, fuck me baby...fuck me with your tight little cunt..." Draco groans as I close my eyes blissfully. This is just what I want, just what I need to ease the maddening hunger I have for him.

Lucius is murmuring instructions behind us; _faster, Draco...she likes it harder...ride him like the little tramp you are, love, let him lick your tits...give it to him...make him scream..._

It's me who screams when I come, grinding down on the root of Draco's cock as he slams up into me, his fingers bruising my bottom as he spreads me open, baring me obscenely for Lucius. I look over my shoulder as Draco grunts and heaves beneath me. Lucius has thrown open his robes and he's stroking his own cock in time to our rutting, his silver eyes slitted like a big, sleepy cat, but I know he's watching us, hating us, wanting us both. He loves me a little, though, and I'll use that to my advantage to keep Draco right here, inside me, fucking me.

"Turn around, Hermione...let him take you from behind..." Lucius orders roughly. My legs tremble dangerously as I slide off a complaining Draco, but when I bend over and brace my hands on the low table by the sofa, he lunges up from the chair and pushes back inside me. He holds my hips in both hands and finds the rhythm again, pulling me back on his cock, filling me so deliciously I want to never, _ever_ stop. I bite back a giggle as I imagine just letting him fuck me to death, pushing into me over and over and over until I disintegrate to dust. 

I drag my eyes open and look at Lucius, my master, my benefactor, and he's smiling at me softly, his fingers trailing in the clotted bits of come on his white belly. He glances over my head, at his son. "I want him to come inside you, love," he says to me even though he's looking Draco. "Drain him of every pureblooded drop..."

His words enflame Draco. He hooks an arm around my waist and hauls me back and forth on him so hard my breasts are bouncing to the point of pain. He gathers my hair in the other, pulling my head back at a sharp angle, so that our mouths meet awkwardly, sloppy-tongued and wet. I dig one hand into Draco's thigh as he cries out, jerking erratically against my arse, his cock twitching as he comes violently inside me.

When Draco pulls away, his knees give out and he drags us both to the floor; we cling, giggling and groping at each other like randy teenagers. Finally, I sprawl on top of him, smoothing his hair back from his pink, shining face. "You're pretty," I whisper to him, feeling the heat of Lucius's eyes on my back. Draco smiles, a sated and goofy sort of smile that makes me giggle again and kiss his swollen lips.

"You are too, Granger," he replies and the kiss changes to something deeper, more profound. He rolls me over and I spread my legs for him, as wanton as you please. He's hardening again, growing against my belly and that infernal ache is starting again, the one only he can soothe. I finally have what I want and I plan on keeping him. After all, my master denies me nothing.

When he slips back inside me, neither of us hear the door close softly behind Lucius.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Erotic Elves Fantasy Fest, in 2005.


End file.
